A few weeks ago in Newport, RI at my step-daughters wedding; an old couple sitting on a park bench and he had a nice bent pipe clinched. Couldn't get a whiff of what he was smoking. It was quite a picture, they just sat there and never really said anything to each other. I didn't take it as meaning anything bad. They both looked like they were enjoying themselves appreciating the fine weather.

Most Montana guys would not like "daintily" being used to describe anything they do.

Interesting. I'm from Belfry. I don't remember anybody being particularly insecure in their masculinity there.

Maybe it's just the shock of someone using that word, and not so much about their masculinity.

I still don't know what you have against James May.

I still don't know what possessed him to use the word "poos", which, I assume, is the plural form of poo. That's what really started all of this.

Once, long ago, my friend Mont had piles of faeces under his avatar as the sign of the administrators' collective displeasure with him. I teased him about this. As a matter of fact, I believe I told him his Indian name was "Three Poos." Thus, the back story has been told.

Most Montana guys would not like "daintily" being used to describe anything they do.

Interesting. I'm from Belfry. I don't remember anybody being particularly insecure in their masculinity there.

Maybe it's just the shock of someone using that word, and not so much about their masculinity.

I still don't know what you have against James May.

I still don't know what possessed him to use the word "poos", which, I assume, is the plural form of poo. That's what really started all of this.

Once, long ago, my friend Mont had piles of faeces under his avatar as the sign of the administrators' collective displeasure with him. I teased him about this. As a matter of fact, I believe I told him his Indian name was "Three Poos." Thus, the back story has been told.

I remember now. I tend not to pay attention to what is happening to most of you goddamn rubes and see the majority of you as an amorphous mass of simpletons who annoy me. As such, distinguishing features such as piles of feces tend to be quickly forgotten.

A_Morley wrote:I remember now. I tend not to pay attention to what is happening to most of you goddamn rubes and see the majority of you as an amorphous mass of simpletons who annoy me. As such, distinguishing features such as piles of feces tend to be quickly forgotten.

Fair enough, as long as you keep dancing while the amorphous mass of simpletons throws coins at the stage. Ridi, pagliaccio. Ridi, I say.

A_Morley wrote:I remember now. I tend not to pay attention to what is happening to most of you goddamn rubes and see the majority of you as an amorphous mass of simpletons who annoy me. As such, distinguishing features such as piles of feces tend to be quickly forgotten.

Fair enough, as long as you keep dancing while the amorphous mass of simpletons throws coins at the stage. Ridi, pagliaccio. Ridi, I say.

A_Morley wrote:I remember now. I tend not to pay attention to what is happening to most of you goddamn rubes and see the majority of you as an amorphous mass of simpletons who annoy me. As such, distinguishing features such as piles of feces tend to be quickly forgotten.

Fair enough, as long as you keep dancing while the amorphous mass of simpletons throws coins at the stage. Ridi, pagliaccio. Ridi, I say.

A_Morley wrote:I remember now. I tend not to pay attention to what is happening to most of you goddamn rubes and see the majority of you as an amorphous mass of simpletons who annoy me. As such, distinguishing features such as piles of feces tend to be quickly forgotten.

Fair enough, as long as you keep dancing while the amorphous mass of simpletons throws coins at the stage. Ridi, pagliaccio. Ridi, I say.

A_Morley wrote:I remember now. I tend not to pay attention to what is happening to most of you goddamn rubes and see the majority of you as an amorphous mass of simpletons who annoy me. As such, distinguishing features such as piles of feces tend to be quickly forgotten.

Fair enough, as long as you keep dancing while the amorphous mass of simpletons throws coins at the stage. Ridi, pagliaccio. Ridi, I say.